


The Wood Sees All

by innerfray



Series: Emetwol Week 2021 [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: 5.3 spoilers, Angst, Emet in Disguise, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Mating Season discussions, Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Pining, Pre-Canon, Viera Emet-Selch, Viera Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), lahabrea bitching for 10 seconds before emet puts him on mute, like EXTREME pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29530221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innerfray/pseuds/innerfray
Summary: "When it came to the Traveler, there were no rules Emet Selch wouldn’t break. Loving someone for thousands of years did that to a person. The irrationality festers inside like a wound, building and broiling until one gamble pulls it, raw and lawless, to the surface.A Garlean emperor visiting the Golmore Jungle could break the cover he had so carefully built - but only if he got caught."-----[Emet Selch disguises himself as a Viera to meet Azem's new shard in Golmore jungle. It doesn't go as planned. 60ish years Pre-Canon]
Relationships: Azem/Emet-Selch (Final Fantasy XIV), Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Series: Emetwol Week 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2165256
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	The Wood Sees All

**Author's Note:**

> For Emetwol Week 2021 - Day 4, "First Kiss"
> 
> NOTE: In this fic, Azem is assumed to be gender-neutral.

Emet Selch hadn’t imagined he’d find the source’s shard of Azem deep within Golmore Jungle. But when you have unlimited time to search, it was an inevitability that he’d come across them eventually. Rational though he was, when it came to the Traveler, there were no rules he wouldn’t break. Loving someone for thousands of years did that to a person. The irrationality festers inside like a wound, building and broiling until one gamble pulls it, raw and lawless, to the surface.

A Garlean emperor visiting the Golmore Jungle could break the cover he had so carefully built - but only if he got caught.

Teleporting to the center of the woods, he cut smoothly through portals of darkness from tree to tree, thick branches obscuring him from any travelers traversing the boardwalks connecting the trunks below. He had no interest in interacting with anyone else - except for _them_. 

He wondered what their form would be, this time. It had been so long since they’d been reincarnated, and on the Source, no less. Their seventh time rejoined. Over half of their soul - would they act as they had before? Would they recognize him? A pang of longing passed through him, and he shivered, pushing it to the back of his mind. If he’d learned anything from the passage of years, it was that the gnaw of loss could still consume him if he let it. His attention was needed in the present. The unsundered were so close to their goal, just a few more rejoicings and they’d all be back together. Forever this time. 

Just to see them for a moment would be enough. This one small distraction, he could permit himself. He wouldn’t pry, wouldn’t get too close. Just see them, say a few words, and then leave. It would be enough.

As he zipped to the next branch, he spotted the entrance to Eryut village in the distance. His heart leaped into his throat. He could see them there, standing at the guard post. The thrill of recognition whipped his insides into a frenzy. _There they were._

Azem’s shard was a woman, this time - a Viera, nearly as tall as he was, standing at attention to protect the entrance to the town. Her hair was tied up in a long ponytail, pinpricks of golden eyes mirroring his own which pierced through the trees in his direction. He doubted she could actually see him from this far away, but retreated to the shadows to be safe. A rush of nerves filled him again, and he was sweating uncomfortably in his robes. Now that he was here - how could he approach her?

There was no way she would take kindly to a Garlean waltzing up to her, and Garlean royalty especially not. By the look of her greatsword and her position, she was trained in combat - she’d strike him down where he stood if he was perceived as a threat. Of course, he had spare bodies, but he was in no hurry to smooth over the level of political drama that sort of incident would incur. No, he needed to be strategic about this. He could transform into a Viera himself, but, no - he wanted to _draw_ her attention. Not blend in. What might be a compromise between the two?

Of course.

Emet snapped his fingers and transformed his vessel - his height shrinking, two long ears sprouting from his head. This vessel’s senses were sharper, and he felt much more dexterous. A lovely, soft patch of black fur bloomed on his chest, matching his hair. He conjured a mirror, still cloaked in his dark portal, and took a look at his handiwork.

A male Viera. Black ears, standing at attention atop his head framed his telltale white streak. His body was smaller, lither than it had been moments before. Generally his kind would not be seen around this time of year, to be sure, but undoubtedly she would notice him. She couldn’t be much older than twenty-two or three, with how long his search had taken. Whether she had participated in mating season or not yet, he couldn’t predict. But if he knew anything about Azem, it was that they were curious. This form enabled him to be irresistibly interesting while alleviating her worry that he may be a threat. 

In a word: It was perfect.

He reappeared in the trees, leaping gracefully down to the boardwalk closest to the entrance. He would proceed the rest of the way on foot, to reduce suspicion. She was positioned in front of a dead end - though anyone knowledgeable about the area would know that Eryut village lay hidden beyond, veiled and connected only by a magical path. The Wood would have to let him in, and he was sure it would reject him with his layers of subterfuge. Nature tended to be the greatest arbiter of truth, he’d learned over the years.

“ _Most Eminent Emet Selch,_ ” a voice sounded testily in his mind, “ _You are away from your post. What, pray tell, is a Garlean Emperor doing near Eryut village?_ ”

 _“That’s none of your concern, Lahabrea,_ ” Emet shot back. “ _Must you be privy to my every move?_ ”

The voice in his head exhaled heavily, “ _Not usually, but in this case, I know you’re about to do something very risky and borderline idiotic as an excuse to interact with Azem’s shard. Am I wrong?”_

Emet stiffened, his ears flattening against his head. _“So you knew she was here, did you? And you didn’t tell me?_

 _“Of course,_ ” Lahabrea said. “ _I elected not to tell you so you wouldn’t do exactly this. Be sensible. The rejoining is close at hand. We need you on your best behavior._ ”

He bared his teeth in response. _“In that case, we have no more to discuss. I grow bored of this.”_

With that, he shut off the mental connection to his unsundered companion. He didn’t do it often, but it seemed Lahabrea would continue to pester him with perfunctory nagging about his duties. This was a special occasion, and he wouldn’t have it taken away from him now. How long had it been since he’d last tracked them down? 600 years? And he hadn’t even been able to get close, that time.

Emet Selch, disguised, strode with purpose down the road toward the entrance to the village, willing his heart to quiet. Adrenaline was truly an irritating byproduct of inhabiting a vessel - he’d much prefer approaching this situation with poise. But as it stood, he felt as though he might jump out of his skin at any moment. He needed to focus.

She saw him approach and prepared herself leisurely for battle, resting one hand on the hilt of the greatsword strapped across her shoulders and tracking him with her gaze as he drew closer. He had a lot more hair on this body, and it stood on end, almost comically filling out the simple tunic and pants he’d opted for his wardrobe. He knew she could likely remove that sword as quick as lightning and run him through if she desired. Upon reaching her, he cleared his throat, suddenly feeling entirely unprepared

“State your business,” she said, practiced and rehearsed, before squinting down at him in confusion. “Wait, you’re early, aren’t you?” She peered down the way he’d come, then turned to check the other path. “Several moons early? Mating season isn’t for quite a while. And you’ve come alone? Are you lost?”

“Oh, am I?” he said, feigning confusion. “I might be. I was sent to gather supplies, and we couldn’t exactly wait that long. Bit of an emergency, I’m afraid.”

She raised an eyebrow and relaxed her hold on the sword. “Well, you aren’t in the wrong place. I’m sure we can find whatever it is you’re looking for. Though I’m sorry you had to travel all this way,” she added.

“This is actually my first time in the Wood,” he lied, “since I was young. Before we go in, would you mind terribly giving me a quick tour? I’d love to learn more about the place you live.”

She looked him up and down for a moment, then shrugged. “You know what? Why not. Let me just go call another guard and explain the situation. I can’t leave my post unattended.” The wistful look in her eyes screamed _Yes, I would love to leave my post unattended, and never come back._

He nodded politely. “Of course. Thank you. I can wait.”

Azem’s shard turned and began to walk off the boardwalk, appearing for a moment to float on the air. Then the path appeared under her feet as she walked, all glowing green light and vines. He wouldn’t step on it, of course, lest the Wood give him away. 

After a few moments, in which he felt he could hardly breathe, she returned. 

“She’s on her way. Let’s go,” she said, her mouth pulled into a lopsided grin. It was a complete transformation from her confident, imposing presence from before. Her shoulders slouched, she was relaxed, and the glint in her eyes had changed somehow.

They began to stroll together. She stood a full head taller than him - this form was smaller than what he was used to. She stretched both her arms skyward, flexing her toned muscles, and sighed. He watched as she beamed up at the trees, drinking in her appearance. Of course, he’d have to stay away from her after this, he had to. But the form she took this time was quite pleasing to look at.

“Always nice to stretch my legs,” she remarked, interrupting his reverie. “Thanks for the opportunity.”

“Think nothing of it. I’m happy to help,” he said, inclining his head. “So, what should I call you? Might I know the name of my courageous tour guide?”

She flinched. “Tour guide, sure. Courageous, not so much. I’m just strong,” she said, and it seemed almost mournful. He wondered why she was so ashamed of it. “Name’s Soya,” She added.

“Soya,” he tried, tasting it on his tongue. “It’s a beautiful name,” he said, following the comment up promptly with a hacking cough. 

That was too forward, far too forward. He glanced at her sideways to see if he’d made her uncomfortable. Her ears were standing at attention, a blush on her nose. He could almost see the cogs of her mind churning, forming a question, weighing the pros and cons to determine if it was worth saying. It was all so achingly familiar - and then she opened her mouth. 

“Thanks,” she said slowly. “Y’know, I haven’t really interacted with too many men of our kind. Is this how it usually goes?”

He bit his lip. Oh. This made things a bit more complicated.

“I always sit out during mating season. Got other things to keep me busy.” She continued, fiddling with her glove. “Sorry, that was too much information, huh?”

“No, I understand,” he said, the words tumbling out with his nerves. “I obviously haven’t participated yet, either, otherwise I would have noticed you.”

She flushed at that. “Really? I, ah… thanks? Again?”

Emet silently cursed himself. He couldn’t just banter as if Azem was here, as if no time had passed. This was a young, mortal being with her own thoughts and feelings. He needed to be more careful. They walked in awkward silence for a few moments.

“You know, it’s interesting,” she said, “But walking with you, talking like this…It feels like we’ve done this before.”

“Does it?” He asked. His insides burned at the implications, but he knew it would be better not to respond any further. To build his hopes up too high would only lead to despair.

“Ah, look at me,” she said, “I’m the Wood’s worst tour guide. Even if I just used you as an excuse to escape for a bit, I ought to at least hold up my end of the bargain.”

He pouted. “Is that the only reason you agreed?”

“No. You’re also nice to look at,” Soyo said, sticking her tongue out. “Is that what you were looking for?”

He smiled smugly at her, his heartbeat thrumming up-tempo again. “Perhaps,” he said.

They continued farther, and he listened as she explained the different varieties of trees they passed. She had learned a lot for someone so young, though it made sense - most Viera didn’t leave their homes unless they decided to leave for good. Soyo likely hadn’t seen much beyond the borders of the Wood. Of course, as was her nature, she would want to learn everything about it. Even the small, furry creatures underfoot she had anecdotes for.

“Hey, I just realized you never told me your name.” She said, and he blinked rapidly. Shit, he hadn’t come up with any sort of convincing personae beyond his appearance and story. He ran through Viera naming conventions in his head, trying to cobble something together. 

Down the boardwalk a bit farther, a hulking, octopus-like figure came into view. It grumbled, the wooden boards beneath them creaking with its approach.

“Ah, shit - Malboro,” she hissed, and she grabbed his arm and yanked him onto a trunk leading to a secluded path. He thanked Zodiark for the well-timed interruption. “Come on. We can wait here until it passes.”

It was a small, cramped area. They were crowded up near a tree, her arm shielding him protectively as the scuffling noise of tentacles and roiling air drew closer. 

“This is a bit forward, you know. It almost seems like you know what you’re doing,” he teased. There was no point in playing coy with her body pressed so close to his, he reasoned.

“I’m just trying to protect you. To be a good example of our village. That’s all,” She said, standing firm - though he could feel her hand quivering slightly against the tree.

“But you dream of something more, don’t you? Of traveling far away. You may be happy here, but you are not free.”

Here was something deep, deep in her soul that he knew. Was this her truth?

She gazed down at him, her brows knotted together. “How… how did you know that?”

“Lucky guess,” he murmured, then before he could think about it a moment longer he leaned up on his toes and pressed his lips to hers. She bristled, unmoving, like a wall. He pulled away as fast as he could. 

That was reckless. He was being uttely foolish. This wasn’t Azem, and there was no way she could reciprocate his feelings. He needed to find a way to get out quickly, to escape -

“That… felt good. Do it again,” she said. "Please."

Emet exhaled a breath it felt like he had been holding for decades. He surged up to meet her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in tight. Her lips fumbled clumsily against his, so he set the pace, guiding her lips with his own. He flipped them both around so she was against the tree. Her hands held onto his hips for dear life, unmoving, and he brushed an errant lock of hair from her eyes and beamed at her.

“You can touch anywhere,” he coached. “Please. I’m not fragile.”

She nodded, her eyes half-lidded as she leaned back down toward him. He tried to keep still this time, to let her explore. She kissed him once, twice, three times. It was like electricity as he waited for her next move. He hadn’t even noticed that he had closed his eyes. The fourth time she kissed him, she opened her mouth tentatively, and he gasped. He snuck his tongue into her mouth, her entire body jolting at the sensation. Her hands finally moved, one reaching up to stroke his ear, the other pressing his lower back closer into her. 

He broke free from her mouth to pepper kisses down her neck, her breath hitching each time his tongue or teeth lapped her skin. She grabbed his chin and delicately guided his face back to hers, and he groaned at her initiative. She was learning quickly. He nipped at her bottom lip. She hissed, but he felt her smile against his own. Soyo was having fun.

Emet Selch was having fun.

She pulled back suddenly to look at him. “So, all of this… Does this mean you like me?” 

He could almost laugh at the absurdity of her question - but then the weight of what he was doing struck him, hard. Her face looked so much like theirs, but to be with her, like this… she was too young, too innocent. He couldn’t be honest with her.

He shouldn’t do this.

“I’m sorry. We need to stop,” he said, panting, using every ounce of his willpower to push her firmly away from him, back against the tree. “Wrong time… of year.”

“What? But, I don’t want to stop now,” she protested, trying to pull him close again. “Please. This is fun.” 

Again, he pushed her away, holding her by the shoulders. “Let’s go back,” he said, his voice cracking. “That Malboro is gone - you’ve kept me safe, as you promised.”

“But -” she started, but something in his gaze stopped her from protesting again. “Okay. If that’s what you want.” Her shoulders slumped, she stepped to the side, walking back toward the main path.

Perhaps he would find her again, someday. But he wouldn’t seduce her under deceit like this. She was too young. She deserved to experience love with someone who at least could be honest with her. Who could love her as a mortal. As Soyo.

“I’ll take us back. You’ll be needing those supplies, right?” She asked over her shoulder. She assumed he was following her, but he was being awfully quiet. A snap rang out through the trees, and she turned around to look for the young Viera she had just kissed for the first time.

He had vanished.

——

It would be Sixty-Three years before she saw him again. Under a newly chosen name, and another title.

She didn’t remember him. Didn’t recognize him. But he remembered her. 

Why, of all people, did Hydaelyn's chosen Warrior of Light have to be _her_.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I used this as an excuse to add in some FFXII tidbits, and what about it??
> 
> I really love the concept of a Viera wol being older (especially because they age so slowly), she would have so many more opportunities to cross paths with Emet -lays down on ground-
> 
> please scream about emet with me on [twitter! ](http://twitter.com/innerfray)


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